


don't go

by toxicpop



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Anonymous Sex, F/M, I'm not crying you're crying shut up, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicpop/pseuds/toxicpop
Summary: short angsty Jon Moxley smut





	

**Author's Note:**

> don't you hate it when your brain goes "hey I know you got other shit to write buuuuut how about this idea that I'm going to pester you with for hours"

“Mox…” 

Her voice is a breath against his neck and he mouths sloppy kisses over her bare shoulder. She’s stripped to the waist in his lap with her skirt creeping higher and higher, his fingers digging bruises into her thighs. He’s still a mess from his match but she’s pressing her tits against his chest anyway, kissing him like she can’t taste the sweat and grime on his lips, sighing his name like a prayer. Mox ruts against her with a wordless sound of desire and she scoots back just enough to unbutton his jeans, and oh god, _oh god_ she’s riding his cock almost before he can blink. She moans louder and Mox doesn’t want to get caught, doesn’t want this to end, so he yanks her down for a kiss. She’s soft and smells like heaven and she’s hot and wet and tight, so fucking good he can’t get enough. When she pulls his hair he’s surprised by the white-hot rush of pleasure, so lost in the easy slip-drag of fucking her that he can’t muffle the whine that tears from him when she tugs his head to one side and sucks a dark hickey into his neck.

“Close,” she breathes. Mox snaps his teeth at her throat and fucks into her harder, faster, silently willing himself to last until she comes. Her breaths quicken with little moans and then she’s there, coming with a cry and grinding against him. She crushes her lips to his and Mox is barely able to gasp _“coming”_ before he’s spilling inside her with a long, low groan.

Mox is still trying to catch his breath when she stands and gathers her clothes. He can see his cum dripping down her thighs when she bends to pick up her panties and he smirks.

“Ya wanna go for a drink? Maybe round two after?” he asks. 

“Sorry,” she says, pulling her shirt back on. “Gotta run. Thanks for the ride, maybe I’ll see you around.” She slips out of the room with a wave of her fingers and a wink. 

“Wait-!” He realizes, too late, that he hadn’t even asked her name. In a rush he buttons his jeans and flies into the hall, but she’s vanished. Mox can still smell her perfume on his skin, gentle as a whisper, and he slumps against the wall and slides to the floor. He isn’t sure why he’d thought she might stay. They never stay.


End file.
